


I Knew You Were Trouble

by LeannieBananie



Series: House of Cards [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Crushes, Flirting, Fluff, Hair Kink, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Mutual Pining, Snark, Spoilers, Swearing, Thighs, Unrequited Crush, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeannieBananie/pseuds/LeannieBananie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He was over 200 years old, he should be immune to butterflies and crushes for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t help but be disappointed though, after all it had been 200 years since he’d been interested in someone and it was just his luck that the man he both respected and fantasized about wasn’t interested in him."</p><p>Or, Rylen has a thing for Danse and really respects him for his personality and thighs and he wants to know what Danse is hiding under that stupid hood. Is Danse willing to show him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Knew You Were Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes I did shamelessly name my M!SS after Rylen from Dragon Age: Inquisition. Don't judge me! But seriously, this is my first try at a M/M relationship so let me know what you think. I tried to make Danse a little awkward and shy and kind of innocent, because that's how he seems to me in the game so far. He's just sooooooo awkward, but it's cute and dorky, and dorky is hot so he's got that going for him anyway. Oh and this came about by immediately taking that stupid hood off as soon as he becomes a companion, because he looks like Buzz Lightyear.
> 
> Kudos & comments, leave 'em if you liked it and tell me what you think! And holler at me if you see any mistakes.

Rylen sprawled in the battered chair in the corner, crunching on potato crisps as Danse labored over his power armor. Sweat trickled down the man’s face and he swore under his breath when his wrench slipped and slammed into his other hand. 

“Damn it!” Smirking, Rylen waggled a crisp in his direction, scolding him lightheartedly. 

“Tsk. Tsk. Language Paladin.” The other man glared at him, wiping at the sweat underneath his hood, before turning back to the damaged leg of his suit. 

“You could help me.” 

“I could, but it looks like you’ve got it under control.” He could practically hear Danse rolling his eyes, but he didn’t respond to Rylen’s jab. Falling silent, he leered appreciatively when Danse squatted to adjust the joint at the knee, stretching his Brotherhood flight suit across his ass. From his seat he could see the man’s abundant muscles shifting in the most distracting way beneath the clingy material. 

“And besides, I like the view better from over here.” Danse lurched to his feet and whirled to sputter at him, a blush dusting his cheeks as he glanced around the garage nervously. 

“W-what?” 

“Nothing, carry on.” Rylen hid his grin by shoving a handful of crisps into his mouth and flipping open the Grognak comic in his lap. Danse stared at him suspiciously for a moment, he could feel the weight of his chocolate colored eyes on him before he resumed his work and the garage was once again filled with the sound of clanking metal and Danse’s soft curses. 

Rylen abandoned the comic in favor of freely admiring the man before him. All his playful flirting had been met with skittish blushes and stammered responses, before he retreated behind the oil and steel of his power armor and the Brotherhood. _Damn them,_ the thought of the zealous group made him frown. And he thought politics had been complicated before the war; now with the world mostly in ruins and everything trying to kill everyone, they were more convoluted than ever. 

Rylen felt guilty about playing sides like he did, telling everyone what they wanted to hear to guarantee their help –Elder Maxson, Desdemona, even Preston at times– but then he remembered that it was for Nora and Shaun. After everything, she deserved to know that her son was safe. Still, his close friends deserved better than that and he felt especially guilty when he considered the man across the room. 

For all the rhetoric that Danse spouted, underneath it was a good, honest, honorable man who didn’t deserve the shit that the Brotherhood heaped on him and he didn’t deserve the lies Rylen told. What he felt for the Paladin was more than the mutual respect and camaraderie that came from spending months together traveling. Beneath that power armor and grease was a man with a sharp wit and an innate sense of generosity and kindness. Off the Prydwen and out in the commonwealth he relaxed, his smiles came more freely and he took Rylen’s teasing with a good natured roll of his eyes and chuckle. There was much to be admired in the man; his personality, strength of character, his determination, his ass, those eyes, and that grin when he was truly amused by something Rylen was saying. 

“Rylen.” 

He had always been curious about Danse’s hair though. The man didn’t wear his T-60 helmet, saying it blocked his vision, but instead preferred the flight suit hood. Was he bald? Or was it because it was the ‘uniform’? Knowing how stuffy he could get it wouldn’t be a big surprise. 

“Rylen.” Danse’s near shout made him jolt in his seat and this time he blushed guiltily. 

“Huh?” But the Paladin’s expression held nothing but concern and he stepped forward with a worried frown on his face. 

“Are you alright Knight?” Rylen unfolded his stocky frame from the chair, groaning as his joints popped in protest. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. And cut it out with that “Knight” crap. When we’re not on the Prydwen call me Rylen.” Danse nodded, but stood there indecisively, shifting on his feet as he watched Rylen roll his neck and shoulders around. 

“You seemed deep in thought.” 

“Ah, not about anything important.” Snorting Rylen strolled over to the cooler and pulled out a beer, wondering for the hundredth time if delivering Buddy to the Rexford had been the best idea. Yes caps, but damn he’d kill for a cold beer right now. “Want one?” 

“Please.” Danse met him half way, taking the bottle and glancing his fingers across Rylen’s hand. He tried to ignore how his skin tingled at the brief, innocent contact. He had fucking problems. He was over 200 years old, he should be immune to butterflies and crushes for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t help but be disappointed though, after all it had been 200 years since he’d been interested in someone and it was just his luck that the man he both respected and fantasized about wasn’t interested in him. 

“You’re frowning again.” Rylen’s head shot up and his brow creased in irritation, so he tried a cocky grin, but it felt brittle on his face and it only made Danse frown harder. 

“You’re especially observant today.” His snarky response just made Danse raise his eyebrows as if to say, _my point exactly._

“And you’re avoiding my inquiry.” 

“Leave it alone _Paladin_.”

“Stop hiding things _Knight_.”

“I’m not!” 

“Rylen.” 

“Fine! I was wondering about your hair!” His sudden outburst made Danse sputter to a stop. 

“You- wait- what?” 

“You fucking asked! Happy now?” Rylen finished his beer in a few quick gulps and tossed the bottle aside, slumping back into his chair with a sullen glower. He watched through hooded eyes as Danse self-consciously touched the edge of his hood, running a finger along the sweat stained seam at the side. 

“Why- my hair?” He squirmed under the innocent question before meeting the gaze of the blushing man in front of him. At first all he could see was embarrassment, but his eyes– they were bright and nervous, eager even. _What the hell?_ Sitting up suddenly, he quirked a brow at Danse, letting a flirty grin play on his lips and he was rewarded as the Paladin’s blush deepen. 

_Hmm, maybe he isn’t as uninterested as I thought._

“Yeah, your hair.” Rylen rose and began to prowl back and forth in front Danse, his movements fluid and distinctly predatory and mischievous. 

“What about it?” 

“Are you bald?” 

“No!” Danse squawked indignantly, bringing his hand protectively to the top of his head. The smile that spread over Rylen’s face, the squint in his eyes was wolfish, teasing, and the challenge slid off his lips before he could rethink it, as natural as breathing. 

“Prove it.”

Danse’s retort was just as quick, “Make me.” But as soon as he said it Rylen could tell that he wanted to take it back. 

Rylen replied softly, “And what if I did.” 

There was a silent pause, both of them staring each other down, the tension thick and palpable in the room. The air seemed electric, filled with anticipation and the undeniable feeling that this was a turning point. They were on the cusp of something unknown, the fragile edge between friendship, respect, and something more. Rylen shifted slightly, breaking the spell, but still he hesitated, giving Danse the chance to walk away. He knew what he wanted, but it had crossed his mind that maybe Danse wasn’t as confident, that this was new ground for him. But then that sculpted jaw tilted up a notch, answering Rylen’s unspoken taunt. Hallelujah, he wasn’t backing down. 

With a triumphant laugh Rylen pounced, lunging forward with his hands outstretched, reaching for the scrap of cloth. His nose was immediately filled with the scent of Danse; oil, grease, sweat, and something naturally him, warm and clean, like the air before a storm before the war irradiated even the clouds. It was distracting, but not as much as the taller man’s broad body against his as they grappled for the hood. 

They were both well-muscled, but Rylen was short and had weakness for beer and Brahmin burgers which led him to be a little softer all around, where Danse was tall though and far more disciplined than was healthy for him. But, it meant that he had muscle, on top of muscle, on top of muscle, arms bulging in his damn skintight suit and thighs that were thick and corded with even more muscle from the near constant use of his power armor. It meant that he could easily out maneuver Rylen, but he didn’t. Hesitantly and with rosy cheeks he allowed them to be pressed together, thighs tangled in between each other and Rylen’s stomach flush with Danse’s hips and groin. 

However, just because he let their bodies be close, did not meant that he was going to let Rylen win. Danse used his height to his advantage, easily keeping his head well out of reach and then he had the audacity to laugh down at him. Rylen mock glared up at him, pretending to be mad and pout but really he was too busy being dazzled by the happiness on Danse’s face. Not to say that he wasn’t happy at other times, but this was a heart-clenching, butterfly inspiring, pulse pounding delight that far surpassed anything else he had ever shown. 

“Can I kiss you?” For a moment Rylen thought he might have crossed a line, because Danse froze and stared at him in wide eyed surprise, before slowly, unexpectedly nodding. He bit his lip nervously and looked a little apprehensive, but tilted his head down to an appropriate height. Stretching up Rylen met him part way, carefully sliding his calloused hand over the rough stubbly skin of his jaw before deliberately pressing their lips together. It was small and chaste, but it was a kiss, warm and soft and enjoyable. He hesitated, giving Danse time to withdraw, but was pleasantly surprised when instead he deepened the kiss, slanting his lips across Rylen’s and letting out a little sigh of satisfaction. Or at least he hoped it was satisfaction, he didn’t sound upset, in fact he sounded quite content if Rylen did say so himself. 

With a smirk he leaned back slightly, listening to Danse catch his breath and ignoring the fact that his own pulse was racing and he felt slightly lightheaded. He really hoped Danse would still be in this good of mood in about two seconds. Lightning quick his hand darted up and he snatched the damned hood of Danse’s head. Danse let out a startled yelp and dove for it, but Rylen rushed to the window and tossed it out, watching it drift away on the wind. 

“Hey!” Danse whined, crowding Rylen up against the window to peer at it floating to the ground. 

“I’ll get you a new- oh fuck.” He turned to placate Danse, but his words stuck in his throat at the sight of him without the cursed hood on. He should have fucking burned it. 

His hair was the most luscious thing he had ever seen and that included Nora’s long, wavy red tresses. It was a dark, almost black brown and longer than he would have imagined, but swept mostly back except where it stuck up wildly from being confined and sweaty. Without the hood his face went from boyish and slightly awkward to rugged and handsome. But that hair though! Rylen wanted to drag his hands through it, thread his fingers in the strands and feel it. Was it silky? Or coarse? It looked soft and even mussed, he wanted to bury his face into it. He wanted to kiss him again and anchor his hands in it, using it keep their lips together. Would Danse like that? Would he moan if Rylen used it to pull his head back and kiss his throat? 

“Rylen?” His name, deliberate and soft on Danse’s lips brought their eyes together again and the air practically sizzled between them. 

“I really like your hair.” _Smooth Rylen, real smooth_. But Danse smiled shyly and they slowly gravitated towards each other as Rylen brought his hand up to touch the tempting locks. But the loud clearing of a throat made them flinch and the lovely part of Danse he was coaxing out of that Brotherhood shell vanished in favor of the stammering, blushing, Paladin. 

“Well, well, well.” Piper interjected smoothly and Rylen cringed. He could tell that her entire body was on red alert, she sensed a story and when Piper got that way she was like a damn dog with a bone. “Isn’t this –cozy.” She settled on finally, leaned against the door jamb with a knowing smirk. Danse quickly put a whole rooms worth of space between them, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he mumbled excuses and something about fraternization before nearly bolting for the stairs, throwing over his shoulder as he vanished, 

“Carry on soldier.” Watching his broad back vanish Rylen lit a cigarette and glared at the nosey reporter. 

“Damn it Piper! Did you really have to interrupt?” She laughed and took the cigarette he offered, putting it to her lips as she shrugged. They settled comfortably shoulder to shoulder along the wall and she nudged him with her elbow. 

“So you and the tin can huh?” It was his turn to shrug as he lit a new cigarette, blowing smoke towards the window. He contemplated how much to tell her, the constant state of vigilance he kept himself in demanded it, because telling the wrong piece of information to the wrong person could put him in a world of hurt and jeopardize all his progress. But this was new and bright and shiny and he felt his cheeks heat up with color, making his sun kissed skin ruddy from embarrassment. 

“I don’t know, kind of caught me off guard actually.” He admitted shyly, staring at the gleaming steel cap that peaked through the worn leather of his boot. 

“The Brotherhood is trouble Ry.” 

“I know that, but Danse isn’t.” He knew she was only looking out for him and he knew that she was just telling the truth, it was what she did. And it wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind before. His life was a precarious house of cards and one wrong move could send it all tumbling to the ground and then he would never find Shaun. 

“He could be.” She finally cautioned, putting out her smoke on the floor. “No matter what anyone else thinks, I know you’re keeping it close to your chest and I don’t blame you, but whatever is going on between you two–” Piper paused and stared at him solemnly for a moment. “It could be bad Ry. Like, really bad. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He pushed himself off the wall and threw her his trademark grin; she didn’t buy it, but it didn’t matter. 

“I can look after myself Piper, you should know that by now.” 

“Mmmhhmm, sure.” She sounded completely unconvinced, but only shook her head as he said goodbye and left in search of Danse. Trotting down the stairs he quickly found him playing tug with Dogmeat. His head was still uncovered and his hair was being tossed around by the wind, but he was laughing and when their eyes met he smiled.


End file.
